Emotionless
by Straying Life
Summary: Danny writes a letter to his divorced father on one of the days of Hanukkah. The reason was partially unclear, even though Jack shouted the reason when he left. And Danny has some important news that he missed when he was left in the cemetery. SONGFIC.


Another AU, another angsty thing, and another strange one-shot. Augh…somehow, this stuff is coming out worse during the holidays. (Points to It's Not Fair) I blame THAT story! I liked it, shut up…

DISCLAIMER: no, no, and no. And "Life in a Microwave" was inspired by a different band and an almost-to-be band in England: "Life in a Blender". NaNoWriMo is useful this way.

SUMMARY: Danny writes a letter to his divorced father on one of the days of Hanukkah. The reason was partially unclear, even though Jack shouted the reason when he left. And Danny has some important news that he missed when he was left in the cemetery. SONGFIC.

RATED: T for slightly mature themes and language.

Emotionless

_Hey Dad,_

_How's it going? As you can see, I'm writing to you. We really miss you, you know. Even though we did sort of…dislike you, as a more gentle word, at first, I want to tell you…this isn't why I'm writing this._

_I'm writing this to ask you how you feel. Is it all right down there? Not too much trouble? Haven't caved in yet? Not eye-deep in dirt yet? Good, I suppose it's as good as it gets for you now._

_By the way, how did it happen? How did we fall apart, as I'm sure you know we did? _

That was something stupid to put in; I already knew well how it happened. Hell, I was the freaking cause of it! I mean, really, how dumb can you _get_?

---

**Jack walked through the doorway after his nightly patrol for Phantom, not finding him outside, to find him talking with his family—_his_ family—as if it were about the weather.**

"**Yeah, and I heard that it'll be sunny in a few days, finally," said Phantom. Jack felt a sudden rush of anger jolt through his body.**

"**Don't you DARE talk to my family!" he bellowed. What he didn't know was that Jazz and Maddie had been filled in on Danny's secret two years ago, when he was 15, and forgot to change back after a rather short fight above his house. **

"**Wait, Dad, you don't understand," he cried.**

"**DON'T CALL ME THAT, I'M NOT YOUR DAD!" barked Jack. Just before he shot Phantom—his aim had greatly improved, and so had his inventions—with the new Fenton Ghost Obliterator ("It won't cause them pain, it'll cause them pain _and _completely destroy them!" Jack had exclaimed)—Phantom quickly formed two rings around his body. When they separated and left, he saw only—**

"**Danny?" he whispered. Danny nodded miserably, biting his lip in hope he wouldn't use the weapon. He didn't, but what really stumped Jack was why Jazz and Maddie weren't freaking out.**

"**Why aren't you…?" His voice ended like a train going down an incomplete railroad. **

"**We knew before, Dad. He was afraid of your reaction because you're so attached to your job," said Jazz, barely choking it out. Jack stood there in shock, not knowing what to believe anymore. Finally, he came to a conclusion, grabbing his jacket again.**

"**Well, if I'm not trusted enough to know my son well enough, then I suppose you don't need me!" he yelled before leaving the house forever with a slam.**

**---**

But I continued writing nonetheless.

_Are you happy there? I know you're up there in heaven, how is it? Are people treating you well? I hope so, because without you, I wouldn't exist._

Well, more or less…I would be differently named, I would look different, I'd have a different personality…hell, I might even be a _g i r l_! But I'd still be me…in a confusing sort of way…

_Do you think about us there? Do you think about me? Do you think about Joey? By the way, he's started a band called "Life in a Microwave". They're platinum now, and most of their songs are about you and our family. _

_Do you miss old Jazz? She's in college now, Harvard, just like we knew she would. She was whining when she got her letter, complaining that she had wanted a full scholarship. _

_When you go to bed, how do you sleep? You left us, and we lost all communication. Do you even wonder if we're okay? Or do you just try to condemn us to hell?_

_If it's anything to you, I'm not Ghost Enemy number 1 anymore. I'm actually the resident hero of Amity Park, so I have to go to the local college, which, in actuality, sucks like crap._

_But it was really hard. A lot of the time, new people moved in (Amity Park became a major metropolis) and accused me of crimes. The worst thing is, most of them were a really bad threat. And plus, half of them were old friends. I know it seems immature, but I spent a lot of nights crying and trying to think of how to deal with this stuff. I remember that one time I got sick off cucumbers and cucumbers only and you nursed me back to health, stopping my tears. And in the dark of the superintendent's family's bomb-shelter-apartment, at that. _

_Did you know that the week after you left, Mom was taken into an asylum? She was going insane because you were gone. When you told me you two were a match made in heaven, I didn't think it was that literal. So she's still in the ward, and the last time I saw her, she was cradling herself and crying hysterically, yet silently. About you._

_So Jazz and I got adopted, although she was in college and I was a junior. We were instructed, and literally banned (the ward knew about it) from the asylum. We couldn't see Mom anymore, and we didn't have much left to do other than work. When we ran out of work, we didn't know what to do. Then, we came up with an idea: extra credit. And that was what we did._

_Everything that happened, everything you did…it's not okay. It's not okay at all after all the hell we've been through. Scratch that; it's not hell, it's hell times infinity **squared**. Do you know how much that is? A LOT. _

_But we're okay. We're fine._

_I was denied my freedom for two years. Those two years I spent on the streets, trying to get some spare pocket change. But even beggars in New York City got more change than I did. I got crap. I got nothing but collecting dust because everyone knew me and why I was out on the streets. Whatever I did was fueled by anger. I stole because I was hungry. I begged because I was poor. I lived in allies because I had nowhere else to go. All of this was because of my anger. But I'll take it all with me to my grave._

_And through all of this, I just want to let you know, Dad…I'm willing to forgive you. Or perhaps, forgive myself for not telling you. Either way, I really miss you Dad, a lot. Sometimes I wish you were still here, and I was still that 5 year old with cold, wet, sopping towels on my forehead with you crooning relaxing things all the time in that bomb-shelter-apartment. _

_Basically, all I wanted to say was…_

_Hi._

_Sincere Love,_

_Your Son,_

_Danny Fenton/Phantom_

I sealed the envelope and ran out of the dorms. I ran off campus and into the cemetery right across from Casper High. I found my dad's grave and smiled, muttering a real greeting and notice of the letter before burying it deep in the ground, so that erosion and wind wouldn't carry it off and so that perhaps, just perhaps, Dad might be able to reach it.

Fin

(Stares) Two words: not expected. I didn't expect the whole thing with college and…I relate to my own life too much. The high school I'm trying to gain admittance into is really right across from a cemetery. That sickness did happen, and in that apartment as well, so don't try telling me you can't get sick off cucumbers; I know from experience. And sometimes, I think like this in terms of my grandmother (referring to the first few paragraphs). I still remember where she was buried. What sucks is that we barely pass through there…anyways…

Yeah. Strange. But I had to get it off my chest when I heard it…


End file.
